Immortal: HOLY CRAPBASKETS IT IS FINALLY HERE! UGH, this chapter was hard for so many reasons that I can barely think of what was the hardest! Researching Arthurian locations, learning the histories of the characters, figuring out how the Fate versions of them would correlate. What would work, what wouldn't work, and so much more. Honestly I lost motivation a couple of times and had to take a break, especially when I would write what I thought was a full chapter before starting over from scratch. I just... I just didn't feel RIGHT about this one. Even now I feel like I may have to go back and correct things, but I will leave that up to you, the readers who have been so patient with me. I truly apologize for taking MONTHS to get this one out and it is the longest one yet for very good reason.

But today, on May 1st of all days, I somehow just had the drive to be able to push myself and publish this chapter on the historical date of the birth of Mordred. I won't lie, but the next chapters will be interludes of Chaldea Mordred. That is because the next true continuation will take months to complete. HOWEVER, it is because I plan to put my heart into more than ever. Because the next time we see this version of Mordred... will be when she accomplishes what should have been impossible. Mordred will finally and truly be inducted in the Round Table and join King Arthur's court.

Gudako: That is if you don't go broke from trying to roll for Morgan and the other Fairy Knights! Seriously, look after your health and your sanity you idiot!

Immortal: Yeah, yeah I know. But I sincerely would like some feedback from you all for this chapter. Would big chapters like these be okay or should I have broken things up after all? I love you all for favoriting, following, and especially reviewing this story. As I promised too, there are THREE pieces of art here to marginally make up for taking so much time to post this chapter. Additionally, much appreciation to the artist Clipped104 for their diligent and fantastic art pieces as well as Avenger for helping me out on this chapter!

Disclaimer: This fanfiction is fan-based writing. All characters and locations are held by their respective owners for the Nasuverse as well as Arthurian mythology. I do not own them in any way, shape, form, or concept to include Reality Marbles, Singularities, or Lostbelts. Please support the official release, but don't go too crazy spending your money on the Fate/Grand Order Gacha!


Sir Mordred and the Orkney Clan pt. 2

447 Anno Domini

Mordred

The company continued their travel after Gareth had finished greeting her newest sibling with no more delays. Gareth explained that she had set the "Black Knight" up the previous day and had spent all morning practically sitting inside it for the chance to greet her siblings in a funny way. Gawain explained to Mordred as they rode that Gareth would "surprise" her siblings every time they were away. Even the morose and uptight Agravain was known to almost smile whenever Gareth greeted him. The youngest Orkney became downcast when Gawain explained to her that Agravain decided to not stay and had return to Camelot instead.

The tufts of hair on both sides of her head that resembled dog ears drooped slightly as she let out a disappointed, "Oh."

But they quickly perked back up as she exclaimed, "That's okay! I'll just have to surprise him twice as hard next time then, plus I got to prank Sir Mordred! So it all works out!"

Mordred growled a little under her breath and staunchly refused to meet Gareth's look as she turned to gaze at her with those adoring puppy-dog eyes. She was still feeling the sting of being embarrassed in front of the whole retinue and was certain that her mother would know of this. She could almost hear her words telling her that she must never let any slight go unpunished or nobody would be able to take her seriously.

"Awww, don't be mad at me please Sir Mordred?", said Gareth when she noticed the tight line across Sir Mordred's mouth, "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm really sorry! I only do that with my brothers and I was so happy to finally get to meet you."

Gareth's voice became softer and pleading, which drew Mordred's gaze back at her and instantly she was defeated.

The look on Gareth's face was that of a chastised puppy that she had once seen back at Tintagel Castle. It had tugged on her heartstrings so much that the owner of said puppy was a brute, so she had warned the serf that if she saw him mistreat his animal again, she would make him make what he did to his animal look like a jolly laugh. He never did, especially when she used a smith hammer to emphasize her point.

Mordred was certain that Gareth didn't mean her apology, but the longer she saw Gareth's apologetic face, the more she knew she couldn't stay upset. There was just something about that look that Gareth displayed that made it impossible to refuse her.

That and the expectant looks from Gaheris and Gawain also helped to sway her opinion. Both of the Orkney brothers were practically glaring at her as if daring her to reject Gareth's apology. From Gaheris this reaction was not surprising, but for Gawain to look at her like this was slightly worrisome.

"It was nothing Gareth.", replied Mordred at last, "Your apology is accepted."

The sad puppy-look suddenly changed into a bright sun as Gareth instantly became happy again and thanked Sir Mordred for being so kind.

"You're definitely a good little brother and your Big Sister- "

Gaheris coughed loudly and excessively while giving Gareth a pointed look. They were at the front of the column, but there were still members of the guard who were close enough to hear the conversation.

"Oh! Right. Your Big Brother is proud of you!"

Mordred thought she heard something crack in her jaw as she turned her glare to Gaheris who whistled innocently and said he would ride ahead to make sure that they would be ready to be received by King Lot before urging his steed on until he was soon out of sight in the castle town.

Gawain chuckled a bit before he patted his youngest sibling's head and explained.

"I know you were excited about being the elder sibling for once, but I'm afraid that I must correct Gaheris's statement earlier. You see my dear Gareth; Sir Mordred is actually older than you."

Mordred expected Gareth to have her pouty, beaten look again, but to her surprise the youngest Orkney looked back at her once before she shook her head at Gawain and said stubbornly, "Nuh-uh! Sir Mordred hasn't been with us long enough! Until we are together to make up for lost time, I'm gonna be his Big Brother… actually his big sister."

Gawain sighed as Gareth whispered the last words under her breath as he looked over to his newfound sibling he gave a helpless smile and shrug that nearly made the fur lining around his collar rise over his head.

"I'm afraid you've found my greatest opponent Sir Mordred.", he said with a rueful smile as he looked lovingly at Gareth puffing her cheeks with that same stubborn look, "Once Gareth makes up her mind on something, nothing can possibly change it. The Lord knows it's been tried many times before to little avail, but I'm afraid that you'll have to accept your role for now as Gareth's younger sibling."

Once more the sting to her pride was felt as Mordred frowned at Gawain as he turned away and tried to make another token effort to change Gareth's mind. She had been told that by Mother and the Green Knight that she must never let a blow go unanswered, yet at the same time she felt that it wasn't knightly to react in such a way to Gareth. Her "brother" Gaheris was one thing, yet to do such a thing to a much younger and smaller girl was-

Girl…

Her irritation was suddenly cut short when it finally clicked to her that Gareth said that she WAS a girl and that it was supposedly secret. Yet the puppy-like Gareth had not even hesitated in the slightest to reveal this to Mordred. Why the hell was she even pretending to be a boy in the first place? So she had her horse canter closer to Gawain until they were side-by-side to ask him directly.

"Sir Gawain!"

"Yes Sir Mordred?"

Gareth looked over with interest and Mordred ignored her as she asked Gawain directly, "Is Gareth a girl or a boy? You two keep going back and forth between "Big Brother" and "Big Sister" but-"

"I'm a girl!", chirped in Gareth easily before Gawain could speak.

"Well that was easy.", said Mordred dryly before clarifying, "Then why does Gareth dress like… that?"

Gareth looked over herself to check if she was presentable and found she still had melon seeds in her hair from her earlier prank.

"You'll understand in due course Sir Mordred.", answered Gawain, "But for now that topic is not to be discussed here, so please be patient."

"But either way, I'm still your-"

"Big Brother?"

"Sister."

"Call you a loony I will…", grumbled Mordred.

/~/

Gawain

The Knight of the Sun smiled sardonically as Gareth and his new brother have their verbal jousting with each other. He had a good feeling that Gareth would bring out the best in Mordred. While they had their mother and some distant female relations, Gareth was very close to her brothers and had followed them into doing things that were quite unladylike.

There was also the matter with his father Lot…

Gawain had also known that she had always wanted to be an older sibling, especially to a sister. But life was full of little disappointments and since Mordred was clearly not a woman, Gareth would have to settle for being the elder sibling for the time being.

But then a darker thought crept into his mind, one which made his smile fade away as he pondered again just exactly how Mordred was his brother by blood. He glanced over his shoulder at the carriage containing the witch Morgan le Fay and glared. Sir Gawain had not once let his guard down around Morgan le Fay even if he had been somewhat relaxed by the appearance of Gareth. Morgan le Fay may be his aunt by his mother Morgause, but once the safe conduct was past and he was free to do as he would without dishonoring himself…

Well, the best way to kill a witch was by fire wasn't it?

/~/

Mordred

Eventually the group made it to the castle town of Din Eidyn where the serfs watched them arrive before they started to gather in earnest when they saw Sir Gawain at the head of column. People excitedly gathered to see him and every now and again the Knight of the Sun would raise his hand in somebody's direction to the delight of the gathering crowd. The honor guard used their horses to help part the crowd and keep the people safely back as the rest made their way up the stony path.

Gareth was waving excitedly to the crowd, even accepting a flower from a shy girl with a smile and a cheerful thanks much to the swooning girl's delight.

Mordred on the other hand kept her face well-hidden beneath her hood as they made their way through the castle-town and instead kept her focus on the looming cliff with ae winding path that led up to the stone fortress of Din Eidyn. Whereas Castle Tintagel was also perched on a cliff with a bridge as its only means of entry and exit, Din Eidyn was much more ominous on the large hill due to the thick gray fog that surrounded its base that hid its exact distance to the average gaze.

The carriage rocked as it went over the cobbled path as they left the village behind, but the winding way to the great fortress itself was otherwise a smooth ride. Mordred looked down at the path behind them as they rode upwards in a serpentine-like pattern. The wind blew and Mordred could smell the salt in the air as the fog cleared and the sound of waves crashing became audible.

She smiled as she saw that Din Eidyn was perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean and she saw that there were several ships floating in the distance or sailing to the shore. The wind blew and her cloak fluttered, yet her hood stayed upright even as the salt air tickled her nose. Mordred had first seen the ships at Castle Tintagel when she was still residing there and had even gotten a chance to taste the bounty of the sea for supper that night for the first time. She didn't like the way the fish stared at her, but the cooks had done a splendid job as it was indeed delicious with butter and lemon.

Sir Gawain announced their arrival upon their arrival to the postern gate and a trumpet blared to open the gate and allow them to pass through. The fort itself was still further on with a large open area and another postern gate before they passed on. The castle itself was even more magnificent than Castle Tintagel and Mordred felt that despite its outwardly brutish appearance, the inside was teeming with life and grandeur. There were barracks for the local militia, a splendid stone chapel, a large stable that was attended by many serfs and a loud man who looked to be the stable master. The castle was further raised by another line of walls that gave an overview of their coming and there were yet more structures as they went on that Mordred could only guess at.

But then she heard a loud voice calling men to attention and they were flanked on either side by a row of sharply dressed militiamen brandishing and they slammed the butts down as one upon their arrival. Unlike the guards under King Mark who were local serfs given a role and a weapon, Mordred saw that these men were trained soldiers and they stood taller and prouder than the ones at Castle Tintagel. The party moved on until they reached the inner bailey of the castle where the Great Hall was located. The buildings were adorned with large heraldic flags decorated with beasts, colors, and symbols of many kinds.

But the two largest ones were easily the Red Dragon of King Arthur and beside it was a black raven stationary on a white field.

Standing atop the steps to the Great Hall stood a man as tall as Sir Gawain who had a sword hanging from a belt studded with bronze and wearing rich burgundy clothes studded with shining bronze studs. He had a magnificent pelt cape made from a bear held together by black iron rings to match with his polished black boots. His black hair was cropped short and his full beard that was neatly trimmed to show his strong jaw and add to his powerful appearance. His eyes were brown and had the look of a man who had a hard life, yet despite his age he had a look of wisdom and strength that time could not rob from him without a fight.

Mordred knew instantly that this man had to be none other than King Lot himself. In spite of the fact that he wore no crown and was not longer called "King", he carried himself with the strength of the Pict kings of old. Unlike King Mark who dressed richly and wore a crown as if to constantly remind everybody that he was King, the man who gazed at them now simply had both the pride and the power of a king without the need to announce it.

As they got closer, Mordred saw that if you took away the beard and changed the hair color, there was no doubt that the man would look like a much older Gawain and Gaheris. In fact, if you gave him a beard and changed his hairstyle, Agravain would look even more like a spitting image of his father.

But standing beside him was a woman who instantly took Mordred's gaze and her breath away.

She was a magnificent beauty that would have marble stonemasons in the far-off lands of the Roman Empire beg to carve her likeness. She was dressed in a silver dress lined with fine black velvet and a white pelt cape also enclosed her to keep her warm against the chill with a thin silver circlet around her head to enhance her color and bring out the colors of her eyes. They were a spring green color full of gentleness and warmth that held a bottomless well of compassion.

Her waist was slim, but her breasts were full and quite sizable with no slack despite having given birth multiple times. Her platinum-blonde hair was tied in a long and thick braid that hung over her shoulder until it nearly went down to her very womanly hips. Her dress was silver with black velvet lining that only enhanced her radiant appearance. But the most startling thing about the woman's otherworldly beauty is just how she looked so much like her mother.

No, that was wrong. This woman looked EXACTLY like her mother!

Her hair and eye colors were certainly different and perhaps her clothes hid her tattoos, but there was no doubt in Mordred's mind that the woman standing next to King Lot was the same in appearance as her mother.

But then the woman looked directly at Mordred as Gawain and Gareth dismounted their horses before they were led away. The two locked their eyes together as Gareth and Gawain flanked Mordred.

"Father, Mother.", greeted Sir Gawain formally as the two descended the steps, "Thank you for greeting us."

"You have been away for too long.", answered Lot as he stood in front of his son, both the same height and nearly the same build. His voice was gruff and deep, but his wife came around him and said, "But he is here now. He is home and moreover, he brought us a new addition."

"That's right mother!", piped in Gareth as she tugged on her hand to bring her over to Mordred who now began to feel uncomfortable and lowered her face to shield herself from sight.

"Oh don't be shy Sir Mordred, come on and greet our lady mother!"

Mordred's mouth felt dry as she finally looked up and took in the full view of the woman who looked so much like her mother. She even sounded like her, but her voice was soft and had an almost musical voice to it as if it were meant for singing.

"It's so good to meet you, Sir Mordred. I am Morgause, sister to your mother, Morgan. You may call me, "Morganna", or "Aunt" if you like."

Then she reached out and caressed Mordred's cheek in a tender hold and Mordred froze in place at Lady Morgause's kind smile.

It was as if Mother was smiling at her with all the love and kindness in the world for her, beaming with pride and joy. This woman who wore her mother's face was giving freely something that Mother had NEVER given her. Mother had never smiled at her like this and certainly had never held her with such genuine affection with such a soft and kind hand. This lady was so much like Mother yet there was a difference that she couldn't quite pin down in so many words. Lady Morgause just felt warm, gentle, and she somehow even smelled warm as if Mordred were being wrapped in a blanket or given a soothing bowl of soup that warmed and filled her on a cold winter's night.

But then a terrible aching in Mordred's heart gripped her and a desperate longing filled her, something she had not felt since her mother had abandoned her in their home in the woods and had completely ignored her when she called after her. It felt like so long ago, but she could recall the awful loneliness she had felt and her hand twitched as if she wanted nothing more than to let Lady Morgause fully embrace her.

But then at that moment she knew the difference between Lady Morgause and her mother.

Their eyes.

Mother's eyes were a beautiful sharp shape, pale green that showed keen intelligence and cold rationality, that could see through you as if all your secrets were laid bare, and were terrible to behold when roused with anger. Lady Morgause's eyes were gentle and round, her eyes a warm green that held no guile in them, that welcomed all with a well of infinite kindness as green as summer grass.

"Sister."

The cool voice of Mother suddenly snapped Mordred out of her stupor and Lady Morgause withdrew her hand before the smile went away. She was no longer looking at the young knight, but at the woman who was now flanking her and had placed her hand lightly on Mordred's shoulders. Mordred stiffened reflexively and her breath stopped as her face went flat and emotionless. Her heart began to beat louder and she tensed to brace herself…

No, Mother wasn't going to hurt her. She merely had surprised her. Only surprised her.

But she had known that voice well enough to know the threat that was hidden behind the voice of icy courtesy. Mother let go of her and went around to see her sister face to face.

Mother was wearing a much more modest version of her usual black and blue dress that showed less skin than usual, but left a gap to show her bosom that appeared somehow slightly larger to Mordred. She was also not wearing her crown, but she was wearing a circlet made of obsidian with a veil that slit down the middle and hid her face unless you were directly close to her.

People all around looked slightly nervous, but then she bowed her head and smiled at Lady Morgause. A silence passed between the two and a tension became palpable in the air. Then just before the silence became more uncomfortable, Lady Morgause suddenly threw her arms around Mother and drew her in a tight embrace.

"I'm so happy to see you again!", said Lady Morgause as Mother embraced the other woman in an equally fierce hug. Mordred felt the tension in the air relax as the two spoke softly and kissed each other's cheeks as if eager to reunite.

'Mother's up to something.', Mordred knew at once.

In all her years of living together, when her Mother displayed emotion of this caliber it was because there was a reason or some plan behind it. The suspicion had a hint of bitterness to it because this level of open affection was something that Mother never showed her.

After they separated, Mother saw Gareth standing behind her mother and held her arms out to her as if expecting an embrace as well. To Mordred's astonishment, Gareth seemed somewhat hesitant to approach Morgan and only moved after a gentle prompting from Lady Morgause.

Unlike the tackling she got from Gareth, Mother's hug was somewhat stiff and it seemed to be reluctantly given, but when Mother embraced her as well Gareth relaxed somewhat. Then Mother got lower until she was eye-level with Gareth before whispering something to her and kissing the top of her head like an affectionate Aunt would. Gareth smiled a little nervously before she stepped aside in order for Morgan to greet Lot. She had the image of a puppy nervous to greet a stranger, her twin tufts flat on her head.

Gawain looked as though he wanted to bar her path, but he stepped aside as Morgan approached Lot of Orkney and she bowed her head respectfully to him.

"King Lot of Orkney, I thank you for your granting sanctuary to us. Your generosity is without equal and your virtue beyond reproach."

"King Arthur and the Queen asked this of me.", replied Lot, "As their vassal I could hardly refuse. Especially when I learnt that mine own son yet lived."

The whisperings of people didn't quite reach Mordred's ears, but she began to feel uncomfortable and awkward standing there. Part of her wanted to yell at them to shut up and mind their own business while another urged her to draw her sword.

Lot held up his hand and all the voices hushed at once before he finally directed his gaze at Mordred who had not removed her hood all this time. Unlike Lady Morgause who could easily look at her, Lot was having more difficulty in doing so before he closed his eyes and turned away. However, before he walked off he said over his shoulder, "Come… My sons."

Gareth looked confused and a little nervous all of a sudden, but Gawain told her to follow their father. Mordred didn't move either until Lady Morgause and Mother both placed their hands on her shoulder. Mother's hold had her nails practically dug into her shoulder while Lady Morgause prompted her with a soft, "It's okay. You're safe with us. Go… go with your Father."

'Father…'

Not wanting to show weakness in front of people, let alone her Mother, Mordred walked up the steps and followed after the man who Lady Morgause called her father.

/~/

Lot

They proceeded through the corridors illuminated by torchlight until they came to the Great Hall. King Mark's had been grand and decorated as if to show his immense power was not waning, whereas Lot's hall conveyed strength and resilience through its long years. Dark stone and dark wood gave the room a foreboding look and looked cheerless, yet the great hearth and the windows lit the room to display the immense wealth of armor, weapons, and relics from time past.

Lot had not forgotten his forefathers nor the time when he was beholden to no one as he stood in front of the largest banner from the many that decorated the hall. It was his single black raven stationary on his white field. Gaheris had already been in the hall awaiting them, seated at one of the long tables that had been laid out earlier by the servants in preparation for the welcoming feast, but he instantly got to his feet when his father had arrived.

After a minute or two of silent contemplation, Lot ordered Gareth and Gaheris to leave without looking at them. Gaheris grumbled a little at this before walked off and called over his should to let him know when the feast was to be served.

"Yes, father.", replied Gareth dutifully and before she left she received a reassuring pat on the shoulder from Gawain and gave a hopeful glance to Mordred before she hurried out of the Great Hall.

With the two remaining, Lot finally turned to look at them.

"Sir Mordred."

"My…", the young knight hesitated. How exactly was she to refer to Lot? As a King? Perhaps by Lord. Or was she to refer to this man whom she only met as, "Father"?

To her surprise, the stern face of Lot broke into a smirk of amusement as he said, "Yes, I suppose it is only natural that you'd be unsure how to speak to me. I have not officially acknowledged you as mine own get, so I should not expect to have you refer to me as father, nor should you expect me to call you "son". "

Gawain's expression was unreadable as he stood motionless and enfolded in his great cape and said nothing to affirm his father's words nor defend Mordred. The younger knight felt unbothered by this and even slightly relieved that Lot wouldn't demand her to call him, "father". She even felt a certain appreciation for his straightforwardness. Whereas King Mark had been a crotchety old bastard who spoke with the venom of a man in his waning years, Lot's words felt spoken openly and honestly.

"So for now, "Lord Lot" or "King Lot", shall do for now. But in the future, we shall perhaps see. By this very evening that fact might even change. That being said… Sir Gawain."

"My Lord.", answered Gawain at once.

"What do you make of this boy who had been claimed by Morgan to be my son, your brother? Perhaps there is no proof of such a thing. He has more of his mother's look and Lady Morgause than mine. Perhaps he is a fraud and is merely some fisherman's son pretending to be somebody he is not."

Mordred tensed as she heard Gawain's hand shift to his sword under his cloak. Both were now closely watching for a reaction and Gawain- no, Sir Gawain's face was unreadable. But this sort of tension was not so dissimilar to a duel with swords. The lessons from mother about the intrigue of court life may have been something she hated to use, but she arose to the challenge with a smirk of her own that displayed her sharp canine.

In response to something utterly audacious there were few options to effectively answer. To submit to them with a show of ignorance, to show how meaningless they are, or respond with even more audacity.

"If it's a matter of pretending, then I'd have to say you're a fine actor as well my Lord Lot. To create such a scheme to draw out some fisherman's son out only to have Sir Gawain slay him in your hall. You really must be bored if you've got nothing better to do ever since you lost not only your sovereignty to King Arthur, but your own sons as well who serve as not only as his knights, but his personal friends too."

Lot's expression was now one of cold fury and he slowly walked to Mordred, his great bear pelt making him even more huge and imposing as he got close. Mordred stood her ground and she began to clap her hands slowly, "My Lord Lot is not only a great warrior, a mighty king, but an unmatched actor as well. Truly a man of many talents."

Then Lot suddenly tossed his cloak aside and drew out his sword and raised it above his head, looking very much like a bear intent on mauling its prey to death before the sword descended.

Only to stop short of Mordred's face, yet there blow behind produced enough wind to cause both her cloak and Gawain's cape to billow and cause her hood to fall away. Lot gazed hard at Mordred, seeing leaf-green eyes, a handsome face, blonde hair, a smirk that dared Lot to slay him with pronounced and sharp canines, and there was not a single tremor.

Yet it was strange.

Lot could perceive him, could see who he was, but for some reason he could neither recall exact details, nor put his face together. It was like viewing something through broken glass that constantly kept changing shape.

Then Lot chuckled grimly as Gawain sighed and said, "Father, that was ill done to my brother, your son."

"So you already knew?", said Lot as he put his sword away before the Knight of the Sun nodded and looked somewhat impressed by Mordred's boldness.

"Sir Mordred is a knight through and through. He had slain the Brown Knight when he was a lad in defense of his mother, was trained and knighted by Sir Bertilak de Hautdesert, and… he is of the right age."

The last words were spoken coldly, but not at Mordred and instead at his father. He was looking at the man with something resembling disgust and bitterness. Where had this come from?

Lot said nothing as he turned away and said, "You have my leave to depart Sir Gawain. Wait outside."

Gawain turned and marched out with no reply and nearly got to the door before Lot called him to wait a moment.

There was a silence again when Mordred turned to see Gawain nearly had made it out before Lot finally said in a softer voice, "I'm glad you came, son."

The Knight of the Sun turned to Lot and frowned still at his father before he finally nodded once before he left to leave the two alone.

Lot ran his hand over his eyes and forehead before he sighed, "I am yet to be forgiven it seems."

"Lord Lot.", began Mordred, "I don't understand. Why does my age matter? I have seen only 14 winters, but I am still a proven and worthy knight."

"Your valor is yet to be seen, though I don't doubt it Sir Mordred.", replied Lot as he frowned slightly, "Your age matters because it… because you are the proof of my infidelity, my betrayal of my wife."

A numbness filled the young knight and Lot was unable to look at her directly, instead moving over to the great heart to look into the fire as if its flame could burn away his lingering guilt and shame. The young knight approached him with a burning question of her own, wanting to know, wanting to understand.

"My lord…", she began quietly, "Who am I to you?"

Lot could neither look at the younger man, nor could he speak just yet. Sir Mordred had not asked to be born of infidelity, and having gone so long without a father it was only to be expected that he would confused about his identity. Gawain's relationship was already strained when he had departed to serve as King Arthur's knight, which only got worse when a genuine friendship developed between the two, and it had become almost broken when Gawain was informed privately that he KNEW Mordred was his own son. The display earlier had been an attempt to show that Mordred was no son of his if he cowed or begged for his life at the display of a threat.

Instead he had shown boldness, audacity, and had not so much as blinked at the threat of a sword. The was courage in the younger man that bordered on arrogance… so much like him.

"When I was a younger man… a less wise king and man then, I was once King of Orkney, of the Picts who had lived here long before the Britons had. The Picts still live in some form or other, either establishing their own territories further north in my lands or had integrated into the new society we currently inhabit. I had rebelled against my liege King Arthur in protest to an edict he had commanded. It was brief, but costly campaign that saw me humbled and no longer a true king in my own right, but instead a vassal to Arthur."

There was a bitterness in his tone, the bitterness of a man who fought something in a cause he believed to be truly righteous only to fail utterly and completely.

After being pardoned and returned to the king's peace, that same night I had stumbled into what I thought was the bed of my wife Morgause. When I had awoken the next morning, I had discovered that it was not Lady Morgause, but your mother whom I had slept with that night."

The words were spoken grimly as Mordred watched him numbly and wordlessly.

"I had feared that your Mother would say that I had forced myself upon her, that my people would suffer should word be brought back to King Arthur-"

"Hold on a moment.", interrupted Mordred, who could not keep quiet at this, "Why should King Arthur care what my mother has to say? Who is she that King Arthur would listen to her?"

Lot looked suddenly at Mordred in surprise, "You don't know? I thought… surely you were aware?"

'He doesn't know. He never knew. Of course that damn witch wouldn't tell him.', Lot thought as he saw there was confusion and vexation in the younger man's eyes.

There was yet another one of Lot's long silences as he internally searched within himself for the right words. In battle and in ruling he had always known what to say, but at this moment he was temporarily at a loss.

"My wife…", he said at last with an air of resignation, "Your mother… they both are sister to King Arthur Pendragon."

There was nothing to be gained from lying to the Mordred, the knight whom Lot believed in his heart to truly be his own. However much he would hate him for this, however much harm would come from this, the truth is what Mordred was owed.

"You asked who you are to me? You are my bastard son. The proof of my infidelity."

/~/

Mordred

The only sounds that could be heard were the crackling of fire and the splitting of wood as it burned. Sparks flew between Mordred and Lot as she beheld the man who was her father. She had survived training with the Green Knight, she had bested the Brown Knight in a duel, and she had survived battle with the Assassin Knight! Mordred took action when confronted and did not reel or display cowardice! However, the news she had just received was like a heavy blow that left her stunned and unable to speak. It was as if the ground beneath her had shook and she was left standing on unsteady ground, unsure of what to do or say. The storm of emotions that raged inside her was overwhelming, and she struggled to keep them in check.

She felt as if she were drowning in a sea of confusion and doubt, trying to calm herself down, but the knowledge was almost too much for her to handle. Tears at this enormity almost welled up as she struggled to know what to do next as she gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, looking down with a shadow passing over her eyes.

But then Lot stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder with a soft expression on his hard face.

"I know this news is difficult to hear son," he said, his voice steady and calm. "But it doesn't change the fact that I will do right by you. My sins and my mistakes are my own, and you should not be the bearer of such ugliness. You have been lost to me, but you are found now. You still do not have to call me father if you do not feel ready, but I will still endeavor to give you a measure of peace."

The anger and storm did not fully ebb away, but it was replaced by a sense of loss. Mordred knew objectively just what a father was, but through her whole life it had only been her mother who had raised her. Sir Bertilak may have been the closest comparison, but compared to Lot now… no. He hadn't actually been a father figure, but he certainly had been important until he brought up that hated word, "Girl" like it had been a vile curse.

For a moment, Mordred wondered what she would have been like with Lot having been in her life more and for another moment she wanted to be fully embraced by Lot.

But the silence lingered for too long and Lot withdrew his touch before he said, "Forgive me… you still need time I imagine. This night, I will acknowledge you as my own and you will be dubbed a prince in your own right, like your brothers Gawain, Agravain, Gaheris, and Gareth."

Though this seemed hardly the appropriate place and moment to point out, Mordred couldn't help but blurt out, "Gareth is a girl, you know this-."

"SILENCE!"

The sudden eruption of this was like another blow and Mordred saw there was genuine fury in Lot's expression. She felt as if she had stepped into a very dangerous territory and the fire was reflected in Lot's eyes as he towered over her.

Then he spoke with tones as cold as ice, "Gareth is your brother and he is my son. As long as you are under this roof or anywhere in my lands, let me make this perfectly clear to you so as to eliminate any doubts, "I. Have. No. Daughters."

Had he not spoken those words, Mordred perhaps would have called him, "father" in time. That comforting hand on her shoulder and that deep voice spoken with steadiness and calm that stilled the rocking of her word was burnt away in a flashfire. Because with those words an impassable gap had formed between the two that no bridge would ever connect.

Mordred knew now that Lot may have been her sire, but he would NEVER be her father.

So with cold courtesy, she asked for leave to go.

"Go.", was all Lot said before he went back to gaze at the fire. Mordred turned and left without another word as Lot buried a face in his hand, his shoulders slumped with the weight of his shame and regrets.

/~/

Gawain

Judging from the dark expression on his brother's face, Gawain could tell that the meeting with the father was not the touching reunion he had hoped for. Lady Morgause had been the one to reveal to him that Morgan le Fay was the mother of Sir Mordred and that Lot had slept with her due to mistaking Morgan for her years ago.

Gawain had already had a strained relationship with his father for siding with King Arthur over his own blood, but the knowledge of his father's unfaithfulness had nearly broken their relationship entirely. But it had been years since and he had almost completely forgotten about the affair until the previous year when King Mark had sent a letter and presented proof that the offspring between his father and Morgan le Fay existed.

The sister of his king had always been a threat in the background with her schemes, but until that day he had never known that a child had been born from the affair. But Gawain at his core loved his family and however much he despised Morgan le Fay and his father's lapse in judgement, Mordred so far seemed like a good person who was born with an unfortunate fate. No one had asked him if he wanted to be born like this or if he liked living with a witch like his mother.

He decided however that Mordred would need time to take all this in and he bade the younger knight to follow him so he could take him to his personal chambers.

Wordlessly, the younger knight followed after him.

Eventually they came to the royal apartments where Lot and his family resided. Each of Gawain's sibling's had their own room and they even connected to a secret bathing area reserved privately for Lot and his family. Due to Din Eidyn's location, there was an underground spring that had been expanded upon due to its natural location upon which the fortress sat.

Mordred's room was on the second floor above them that ordinarily was reserved for guests and had been turned over to his new brother's room. The rich tapestries were absent from the walls and were simple rough stone masonry, giving the room a more rustic feel. While it was quite spacious and functional for private daily exercise, it no longer had the ornate touches as expected for powerful guests. The four-poster bed that stood in the center of the room retained its luxurious silk curtains and was piled high with linens and furs.

At the foot of the bed was a large wooden chest that was decorated with intricate carvings displaying dragons, lions, bears, and wolves. A large fireplace dominated one wall of the room with a simple stone mantle and a firebox. Overall, the room had been transformed from a luxurious guest room into a space more practical and functional, better suited for a warrior who valued utility over luxury. The sole luxurious piece that was kept in this room was full-length mirror that had been deemed too valuable to be moved along with a wash basin and flagon. It seemed this room had been used for highborn ladies previously.

Gawain wasn't sure how of the living conditions his brother was used to, but Mordred's dark mood didn't change and instead just looked around. But then both their eyes were drawn to a large object that was hidden under a large cloth canvas. Aside from that, the only personal items of Mordred were laid in a rucksack that was set next to the wooden chest.

"A servant will come retrieve you when it is time for the feast, Sir Mordred, ", said Gawain, "and I'll see to it that you are brought appropriate clothing."

"Yeah."

Mordred went over to the flagon and poured some water into the basin before washing.

"Lord Lot just told me that my mother is actually King Arthur's sister and since he slept with my mother, I am according to him, "a bastard son" and "proof of infidelity".", said the younger knight in a toneless voice as if he describing the weather.

Gawain gasped softly, not expecting this to be told to him. So that is why Mordred had such a dark air about him. This revelation had clearly been hidden from him all his life and Gawain didn't need to pry to know that Lot telling Mordred this had caused a turmoil of emotions in him that shook the younger knight's world. Gawain felt angry as well though he kept his face stoic and calm. But he knew he would have words with his father before the dawn would come.

His father had never been one to mince words, but to be called to your face "bastard" and "proof of infidelity"… He was the eldest sibling and as such it was his duty to provide support for his younger siblings. Even if they didn't always appreciate it, he would never fail to reach out to them if he could. Sir Mordred was displaying surprising control despite his youth, but the stiffness of his every movement made it obvious that he was shaken.

So he asked Mordred to sit with him on the bed and the younger knight did so reluctantly, refusing to meet Gawain's concerned look. For a while, they sat together and Gawain looked over at his brother who refused to meet his gaze and instead was fixated on the ground.

"I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you.", he began, "But I want to reassure you that you ARE my brother and I don't care how you were born. Gaheris, Agravain, Gareth, and I will always be your family, and the Orkney siblings do not ever turn their backs on each other. Truth be told, I was already proud of you before we even met."

This got Mordred's attention and he finally turned his attention to Gawain. The Knight of the Sun had his eyes closed in a gentle smile as he said, "To have defeated a foe even I had trouble with… at such a young age too is truly an incredible feat. Did you have the blessings of a saint or were raised by a fairy?"

"I have no special blessings. As for a fairy… pray have you ever met my mother?", asked Mordred with a flat look that caused Gawain to chuckle.

"Of course, but I mean that you did something incredible and I'm proud to be your brother. I know we have known each other only a short time, but you are a part of this family. Lot may be a nearly irredeemable scoundrel, but if there is one good consistent thing about him it's that he truly loves his family and would do anything for us even to his own detriment. Give him time and he will treat you as if you had always been part of this family."

"I doubt that.", answered Mordred as he looked away, "I can't ever see me calling a man like him, "Father", let alone "Poppa" or "Dad" or anything like that."

Gawain understood his brother's feelings and said, "I understand you are upset. I doubt your mother told you about your connection to King Arthur given how much you speak about how much you admire him. But if that witch ever harms you, I will see her burn-"

"NO!"

Mordred snapped loudly and stood up with sudden fury. Gawain's instincts tensed him for battle as he realized he stepped on a delicate subject. After a moment where the tension felt thick enough to cut with a knife, Mordred sighed and sat back down.

"I am not blind to what kind of person my mother is. But… I love her still. For my whole life before I began to train, she was all I had. She was my protector, my teacher, my guardian. She's… distant and harsh at times, but she still my mother. She wouldn't have raised me all alone if she didn't love me. So please Sir Gawain… don't ever talk about her like that again."

"Please forgive my harsh words, Sir Mordred. I spoke without thinking and… dishonored your mother. I apologize."

Sir Mordred didn't want to speak of Morgan le Fay, though he grudgingly gave his pardon and Gawain felt conflicted. How could he possibly tell the young knight about how much trouble and harm Morgan le Fay had caused? No… right now wasn't the time. He could only imagine what it must have been like to be raised by Morgan le Fay, and a new fear had begun to creep into him when he saw just how loyal Mordred was to his mother. He wondered just how blind he actually was to his mother and how much of it was done out of misplaced loyalty and love, and how much was deliberately engineered by that witch.

So to change the subject, Sir Gawain turned the conversation to a different direction.

"King Arthur will be holding a festival in the coming months. It will be during this festival that the greatest knights of the land will attempt to win a seat at the Round Table."

Mordred looked at Gawain and the Knight of the Sun felt relief that his brother's attention was caught.

"As I'm sure you are aware, there are many Round Table Knights and I am one of those who sit beside the king in his Inner Circle. But there are also those who are placed on the Outer Circle. They are granted the title of "Round Table Knight", and after a unanimous vote, they are allowed a seat at the Inner Circle. It was how Sir Palamedes, Knight of Inquiry gained his seat with us."

Mordred had heard of Sir Palamedes, but he was not considered as famous as the other Round Table Knights. He had supposedly come from a far-away land where people spoke and dressed strangely.

"But if an individual with enough renown and special recommendation is put forth, they can attempt to directly be inducted into our Inner Circle and gain a seat with us and King Arthur.

Mordred's expression was one of awe and though it was still strangely difficult to focus on his face, Gawain still looked his way.

"Our beloved King Arthur truly is something special and I promise you this… one day you WILL get to stand before him. I know without a doubt as surely as the sun rises and sets, that you WILL get to meet King Arthur and that you WILL join me and Agravain as a Round Table Knight. I truly believe that with all my heart."

Mordred said nothing before looking away again as a weight seemed to be placed on his shoulders. So with no reaction forthcoming, Gawain decided to give the younger knight his space. So he stood up and began to leave, deciding he would head to the kitchens to make one of his personal dishes for the younger knight. He only hoped that the cooks had remembered to keep the masher around otherwise how else was he supposed to cook?

Just as he opened the door, he heard Mordred speak.

"Thanks, big bro."

Gawain looked back and a delighted grin spread across his face as he asked, "What was that? I couldn't hear you."

"I said, "thanks"!", snapped Mordred as he drew his hood around his head, before Gawain caught a mumbled, "big brother."

But Gawain wasn't through yet! It had been a LONG time since he could indulge in some friendly teasing and it was strange how Mordred's body folding on itself as if protecting itself, the faint shade of red on his cheeks, and the way he shook made him oddly… cute. It actually reminded him of Gareth when he would playfully tease her.

"No, no, I thought I heard something else. What was that last part? Something about me being your "BIG BROTHER"…? ", asked Gawain in a loud sing-song voice as he cupped a hand to his ear.

"OH JUST SHADDUP AND GO AWAY YOU BLOODY MOP HEAD!"

Gawain laughed and wisely made a tactical withdrawal as a volley of pillows and small objects bounced off him as Sir Mordred continued to shout at him to get out. He closed the door just in time before a hunk of firewood could be tossed at his head and he stood outside the door with the same smile on his face. Although Mordred was being temperamental, the Knight of the Sun felt a sense of pride he hadn't felt since Gareth first called him these words. It was an elder brother's duty to guide and protect his younger siblings, but those two simple words was a sign that Mordred would look to him as a role model. Despite Morgan le Fay's presence, Gawain felt he would be able to help his younger brother achieve his dream and to be the loving guidance he had always tried to be with all his siblings. Even Agravain had once upon a time looked to him for guidance and protection that only the big brother could provide.

/~/

Mordred

Later on that evening, Mordred heard a knock at the door and she assumed it was one of the servants who would be providing clothing for her to wear. More than likely it would be a hand-me-down as Mordred did not have formal clothing to wear. She had participated in formal events as a squire and again not long after she had been knighted. But she had not brought it with her as she had outgrown it surprisingly quickly.

The knocking became more insistent until Mordred impatiently told the knocker to come in. But instead of a servant, it was revealed to be Gareth wearing a green robe trimmed with wool and wearing slippers.

"Mordred! Mordred! Hey Sir Mordreeeed!", she called out.

"Yes, I hear you! Now what do you want?"

"Wanna take a bath? Big Bro told me you were upset earlier, so I thought I'd tell you about the special baths here! It always makes me feel better!"

At the word, "special bath", an instinctive wariness took hold of Mordred and she instantly became angrily apprehensive. It had been years since she had to take one of her mother's "special baths", but she never forgot how much she had hated the experience.

"No! Don't be stupid! I don't wanna take a bath right now!"

Gareth puffed her cheeks, frowned disapprovingly, and she wagged her finger at Mordred with her other hand on her hip.

"I'm your big sister, so don't talk to me like that! Besides, I can tell that you haven't taken a proper bath in days and it would be irresponsible of me to let you be smelly any longer than necessary! I even brought you a bathrobe too since I figured you wouldn't have one."

Mordred felt a flush rise and she now felt embarrassed in addition to her defensiveness. She had never been one to worry about being dirty, but she did take pride in taking care of herself. Truthfully she had not actually bathed herself since departing Castle Tintagel. She had used water to quickly clean her face, armpits, and private area when nobody was around.

But inconvenience of being smelly was nothing compared to what would happen if anybody should find out the truth about her, so in rough tones she told Gareth to go away and leave her alone.

The youngest Orkney sibling's look of irritation soon changed thoughtful as she clasped her hands behind her back and rocked back and forth on her slipper-covered heels.

"Smelly, stinky Mordred… sends shivers down your spine~"

Gareth's singsong continued for several verses about uncleanliness and smelliness despite Mordred telling her to shut up and go away. Gareth continued her song undaunted and even nonchalantly grabbed the pillow Mordred threw at her before using it as a shield against more projectiles.

Mordred knew she couldn't just strike Gareth and so she decided to simply shove her out. But this quickly proved futile when Gareth had dodged her and simply scrambled away all over the room as Mordred attempted to get a hold of her. Gareth was surprisingly agile and quick, using her smaller stature to slip away despite wearing slippers.

This was perhaps the first time ever that Mordred ever engaged with somebody smaller than her. She had always been used to fighting bigger and slower opponents, so fighting somebody small and agile was something that was growing frustrating.

Finally, Mordred managed to catch Gareth by her robe with a triumphant shout. But Gareth slipped out of the robe and yelled, "KYAAAAH! BIG BRO! SIR MORDRED STRIPPED ME NAKED!"

Shock filled Mordred and she quickly covered her eyes before blurting out that she didn't mean to. But then Gareth's cries turned into snickering and finally into laughter before she grabbed Mordred's wrists and said, "Gotcha!"

"Huh?"

Mordred peeked her eyes open to see that Gareth was in fact, still fully dressed with a simple cotton shirt and wool trousers. Gareth was giggling and somehow this just felt more draining to Mordred than if she had finished a long sparring session.

"So are you gonna take a bath now? It would make your Big Sister really happy if you did."

With a frustrated sigh, Mordred groaned that she would at least follow Gareth if it meant she'd shut up and leave her be.

Not satisfied with this, Gareth took on the authoritative tone of the elder sibling as she told her that now Mordred had started to sweat a little, so she was taking a bath and that would be that. Mordred snapped that she got it already and picked out the cleanest trousers and shirt that she had left, complaining under her breath at how annoying Gareth was being. Was this what it meant to have siblings? People who just annoyed the crap out of you with their nagging?

So with Mordred in tow, Gareth led her new sibling down the hall and opened a door that descended for several flights of stairs. There was an odd scent in the air and the sound of running water that became a little louder until they came to a vast underground chamber lit by torches and candles. There were wooden basins all around that could fit multiple people and hot water running freely through a small river that divided one side from the other. There was also a wooden divider between one side and the other to give privacy for those who were bathing. There were shelves to hold brushes and pegs to hold clothes and a basked for the servants to collect later when it came time for washing.

Mordred curiously dipped her finger in the river and was surprised to find that the water was indeed hot like bath water. It ran through the camber before vanishing through a grate in the wall and out into parts unknown before eventually making its course to the ocean. Gareth was happy to take on the role of a teacher as she explained to Mordred that this was a reserved spot for only herself, their mother, and their brothers.

The ground was somewhat slippery, which Gareth warned Mordred to be careful about. She also added to not forget her clothes when she left because that happened to her quite often and the servants had gotten annoyed by that. Mordred only half-listened to her explanations and anecdotes when she thought about just how dirty she actually was, Mordred reluctantly agreed inwardly that a bath would actually feel quite heavenly, especially if it was a hot bath instead of cold river water. Gareth then turned to Mordred and told her to go wait outside until she was done bathing.

The youngest Orkney pushed the extra bathrobe she had carried into Mordred's hands before she asked her to her out of the bath house and to wait her turn. She may be Lot's son, but she was still a girl too and boys shouldn't peek on girls while they bathed. Mordred felt dry amusement at that before she waved her off and sat on the steps of the stone stairs. She heard Gareth humming to herself as she undressed, grabbed a bucket, used the river to grab hot water and pour it into the wooden tubs until it was deep enough for herself.

Gareth's sigh of contentment was heard through the wooden door vaguely and Mordred waited impatiently for her to finish. After a good fifteen minutes passed, Gareth finished her bath and told Mordred she was coming out. Though it took her a few more minutes to dry off, Gareth soon emerged from the bathhouse wearing her bathrobe and slippers before she practically skipped back up the stairs to go get ready for the evening feast.

Once more Mordred was reminded of a puppy from the way Gareth's hair tufts twitched and flapped around her head and how if she had a tail it would be wagging vigorously. Once the sounds of Gareth fully faded away, Mordred stepped into the bathhouse and after picking an empty tub, she undressed herself completely before putting on the bathrobe to avoid wetting her clothes. Thankfully the baths were in a warm cavern so it didn't feel uncomfortable as she got the same bucket that Gareth used and filled her tub until it was at the suitable level she wanted.

Satisfied, Mordred untied the sash around her waist and shrugged off the bathrobe for it to slide off her shoulders and pool around her ankles. She picked it up and set it on a nearby peg before she untied her hair and shook it free. Then she carefully stepped into the hot water and let out a long sigh of contentment as she sank into the water up to her neck.

For a few minutes she just soaked in the water and enjoyed the heat as it soothed aching muscles she hadn't even thought about. Then she grabbed a brush with a long wooden handle, a bar of soap, and began to clean herself off. Her arms, her neck, her feet, her legs, her back were all scrubbed. But when it came to her chest, Mordred flinched a bit as they felt more sensitive than usual and the brush felt uncomfortable.

"What the hell?", she muttered as she looked down at herself.

Mordred noticed that her chest beneath the water and seemed as if it had swollen somewhat. She sat up to get a better look at herself and even in the dim lighting it seemed that her nipples also looked a little larger than before, which explained why the felt suddenly so sensitive. For as long as she could remember, she had been as flat-chested as any male which served to help her hide her identity.

But with this new development, Mordred realized that she was starting to develop breasts. Mother had given her only the most rudimentary lessons on the female form, explaining the absolute bare minimum on what the things on her own chest were and what the slit in between her legs was.

Only women lacked the cock of a male and only women could have breasts with which to nurse her children with. The idea of her body changing into one like her mother's felt suddenly revolting to Mordred. How could she ever hope to be a knight if she looked soft and… and womanly?! She would have to bind her chest somehow, to make it appear still as if she were completely flat-chested again. Fighting the sudden panic, Mordred decided to rush her bath and get dressed as soon as possible.

So she grabbed the soap bar and applied it directly to the skin before she tried to ignore the sudden itchiness and tingling. After diving under the water to fully wash off, the bar of soap slipped out of her grasp and onto the floor. Cursing, Mordred stepped out and caused water to spill over. Dripping and wet, she made a grab for the soap before kicking it away by accident and it slid across the slippery floor before it went right under the entrance to the bathhouse door.

Without thinking and determined to grab the soap, Mordred moved while still naked and wet to open the door. She flung it open and stood in the doorframe, but the hot air became suddenly ice cold as though all the blood in her body chilled when she saw that somebody was standing there.

She didn't have time to think before she stumbled back to try to cover herself before slipping on the wet floor and landing hard on her back, smacking the back of her head on the ground. Wincing and rubbing her skull, Mordred propped herself up before the cold ball in her stomach turned to icy horror throughout her body as she realized just who was looking at her.

Standing there with soap bar in hand and still wearing her slippers and bathrobe was Gareth. The smile that was on her face slowly faded away and there was shock across her face. Shock, confusion, and wonderment as she observed her bare chest all the way down to her open legs.

"Sir Mordred you're… just like me."

/~/

Gareth

Gareth had spent the last fifteen minutes trying to find the dirty clothes she had changed out of and was unable to remember for the life of herself just what she did with them. Though she had many clothes and undergarments, it still wouldn't do for her to forget them. She hadn't changed out of her bathrobe or slippers and though it would be easy to just forget it, Gareth had been taught by Big Bro Gawain to keep track of her things. If she wanted to be a knight like Gawain and Agravain, Gareth needed to always make sure she was prepared at any time just like they were.

Father had emphasized to her to hide her identity, but Mother and Big Bro Gawain had always encouraged her to stay true to who she was as a person. The world wouldn't be kind to a female pretending to be a male in order to be a knight, but she knew that if she could prove herself then she would be fine! All she had to do was get good enough and through hard work and determination, Gareth may even be worthy to become a squire.

But not to Sir Tristan, Sir Percival, nor even her own brother.

For Gareth… the person who had captured her heart the most had been Sir Lancelot du Lac. His tales and his renown had been what captured her, for being somebody who had been an outsider to Britain and rising to the top through sheer hard work and never giving up. She had even been lucky to meet him once or twice when he had visited Gawain at Din Eidyn. King Mark may have sent the men to help her when she had been in trouble that time, but it was Sir Lancelot himself who had ultimately been the one to take her home.

He was her hero. He was the example of a perfect knight. King Arthur was certainly great and somebody whom even Sir Lancelot admired and loved, but the Knight of the Lake himself was… relatable. Despite the love from her mother and her brothers, it was being the sole Orkney sibling that was female that had made her feel like an outsider. She couldn't do all the things her brothers could and Father had refused to talk to her like a girl or even entertain the idea that she was one.

Sir Lancelot must've surely felt like she did, being a knight from a land that had warred with Britain for years beyond memory, and becoming the ideal knight through hard work appealed to her on a level that reached all the way to her heart. He was the kind of knight who would give the shirt off his back to help somebody in desperate need-

"THE BATHS!"

Gareth pounded her fist in her palm as she suddenly remembered just where she had left her clothing. Sir Mordred was probably done with his bathing and back in his room by this point. So she hummed to herself as she ran out her door and went back down to the baths. Her slippers made a soft flapping sound as she descended the steps before seeing the door. There was the sound of splashing, muttered angry noises, and the tapping of bare feet on the ground by the time Gareth finally came down.

She saw a bar of soap slip in the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor before stopping at her foot. Gareth picked it up and shook her head with a rueful smile before she moved to the door.

She intended to just open it at a crack and surprise her brother before telling him to be more careful with soaps before handing it back to him. But before she could open the door or even call out to him, the door had already opened to reveal her newfound sibling completely naked and dripping wet from the bath.

But the embarrassment that would have taken place or caused Gareth to look away turned quickly to shock when she saw the look of absolute horror on Sir Mordred's face. Gareth herself was frozen with shock as the knight stumbled backwards and slipped on the ground before the back of their head hit the ground. She stared at the other girl as she propped herself up slowly and rubbed her head.

The soap slipped out of her hand as she saw the lean and muscular figure of her sibling do nothing to hide the fact that breasts were forming on her chest. Her eyes slid unconsciously downwards to Mordred's open legs and realized with a dazed expression that Mordred was indeed a girl.

"Sir Mordred you're… just like me."

She spoke the words as if to confirm it with herself that her eyes did not deceive her. Though she still had trouble seeing her brother's- No… her sister's face, but the fear soon turned to shame and rage before Mordred closed her legs shut, covered her chest with her arms and screamed with raw fury, "DON'T LOOK AT ME! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT!"

The volume and sheer intensity was enough to snap Gareth out of her daze and in terror with tears running down her eyes, Gareth tried to tell Mordred she didn't mean to do anything wrong before Mordred screamed at her again to get out. There was such vitriol and anger that Gareth wailed an apology before she ran out of the bathhouse all the way to her room as though she ran for her very life before slamming the door shut like the devil had been chasing her.

Panting in terror at the way Sir Mordred yelled at her and with her own emotions running wild, Gareth couldn't get the image nor the truth of the matter out of her head.

The knight that was proclaimed to be her brother was in truth a girl… just like Gareth.

/~/

Mordred

The feast that evening had been an excellent one albeit with few people aside from Lot and his family, including his newfound son Mordred. The people that had been invited were vassals loyal to Lot and whom were necessary to witness the public declaration that Mordred was his own. Additionally, he reassured them that he would gather forces to expel the Saxons that had been raiding the area and kidnapping his people.

Morgan le Fay had not attended the feast, to which Lot was privately thankful for as he did not want a spectacle to be made. There would certainly be trouble considering that the memory of her slaying of King Urien of Rheged had not vanished, but it would not amount to anything as nobody would dare make war on the man who once challenged King Arthur himself.

Gawain had apologized as well to Mordred that the cooks had already made the food and his favorite masher had vanished yet again, so he would not be able to make his signature dish for her as a welcoming present.

After the incident with the bathhouse, Mordred had quickly dried off and went to her room to try to calm the panic in herself. New clothing had already been laid out and Mordred at first had determinedly decided to not go for fear of what Gareth would do now that she had seen her for who she was. But Gawain himself had come to try to get her to attend the feast. Mordred lied and said she was feeling ill, but Gawain had told her that their father insisted she present herself. Morgan le Fay was already not in attendance and the absence of Mordred would be a very poor showing.

Not to mention the fact that Mordred's absence would embarrass Lot and the Orkney family. Gawain assumed that she had been more upset than she actually appeared with the way Lot had spoken and tried to be understanding. But he gently begged her to come out and after thinking of the consequences of going against the consequences of not going, Mordred finally gave in and told Gawain she would be in attendance.

Throughout the entire feast, almost nobody aside from Gareth had been able to directly look at Mordred while Lot proclaimed Mordred as his natural son and that he was an Orkney with all the rights, privileges, and responsibilities thereof. Lady Morgause, Gaheris, and Gareth were present, but they all barely spoke to her. Gareth stole pleading glances at her every so often, but otherwise the youngest Orkney sibling left her well alone, which was a huge relief for the young knight.

During the feasting, she was still mostly ignored and she in turn ignored everybody else. Gareth had made an attempt to approach her, but she was fortunately distracted by a pair of girls who looked only slightly older than Mordred was. She caught the words, "Lynette" and "Lyonesse", and it was obvious that Gareth was quite fond of the two, especially the Lady Lyonesse. Thankfully the two scooped her up and escorted her away for something insipid and left Mordred be.

Despite the music playing there was no merriment in Mordred and her solitude was broken when one one person in particular was insistent on talking with her. He was a tall, thin man but weathered hard from long years of traveling and jousting. He was perhaps the most finely dressed of all the other guests as he approached Mordred.

He had introduced himself as King Pellinore, a friend and fellow knight of the Round Table. He had been invited to bear witness to Lot's declaration of acknowledging Mordred as his natural son. But Mordred had not given him much thought because like all the other guests he was unable directly look at her for more than a moment. Their talk was brief and inconsequential aside from him asking about the Brown Knight whom Mordred had helped slay. Despite her admiration for any knight of the round table, the events of the day had soured any positive feeling she might have had and rendering her almost as sullen as Gaheris had been when they first met.

Their brief conversation about when King Pellinore first met King Arthur during a quest to hunt down a beast was interrupted when Gareth appeared to tell Pellinore that Lot had sent his son to fetch him for a private conversation.

"Excellent lad!", said Pellinore as he clapped Gareth's shoulder and said, "Very well, very well, lead on!"

Gareth glanced at Mordred almost pleadingly, but Mordred stubbornly looked away and so the youngest Orkney led Pellinore off until they were soon lost to sight.

The sour mood she was in turned bitter, so the young knight decided on impulse to simply wander Din Eidyn. She should have been excited, she should have been thrilled about achieving another step towards her dream, but Lot's words had turned everything into a bitterness that she couldn't get rid of.

Bastard.

Proof of infidelity.

What did all that mean for her now? Mordred had never given a thought as to what she expected for her father, but she had supposed in her own wistful way that she wanted a father who would be like King Arthur. It had been an impossibility born of childish naiveté, but still… having a father was something she wouldn't have minded having at all. She stepped outside the Great Hall and began to wander near the apartments where her room was before halting as fresh anxiety filled her even as she fought inwardly to smother it.

She hadn't even been at Din Eidyn for a full day and already somebody had discovered her most closely guarded secret through sheer bad luck. There was a moment of terror in her heart at what Mother would do if she found out what Gareth knew. Would Mother hurt her, threaten her? Would she force Mordred to clean up her mess? Would Gareth have to be permanently silenced? That thought filled her with revulsion at the idea of doing something so awful. But she knew now that everything hanged upon the youngest Orkney sibling now.

All Gareth would have to do would be to tell Lot the truth and everything would be ruined.

Eventually Mordred found that she had wandered up the ramparts to distract herself when she heard the wind whistling and the waves of the sea crashing against the cliffs. Mordred saw that though the sea was black there was a full moon reflecting on the waters and bathing the castle with its brightness.

Mordred decided to simply stay there and try to make heads or tails of what is to come. Would Gareth talk? What would she do if she did? Was her dream over before it even began?

"Are you alright?"

The knight turned her head to see that Lady Morgause was standing behind her, still wearing her silver gown from earlier and the pelt used to keep her warm.

"Forgive me if I disturbed you, but I saw you looked somewhat forlorn and wanted to make certain you are well."

The uncanny resemblance to her mother caused Mordred to be unable to meet her eyes as the knight reassured her that she was fine, that she just wanted to have some air away from the group of people. She had especially wanted to avoid Gareth, but she kept that part to herself.

"I see. May I please join you?"

"Do what you like, Lady Morgause."

Mordred kept her gaze fixed on the ocean as the older woman stood next to her and also looked out at sea. The young knight cursed to herself for her reflexive answer and remained silent in hopes Lady Morgause would go away on her own. For a while the two said nothing, but Mordred kept stealing glances at the woman who shared her mother's face. She had such a gentle and kind expression, but she also had a feeling about her that Mordred couldn't quite place. An aura perhaps of… sadness.

"It's not your fault."

"!"

Lady Morgause looked over at Mordred and had a smile that seemed sad somehow as she explained, "Your birth, my husband's indiscretion, all of it… it's not your fault."

Feeling somewhat lost, Mordred tried to find the words to answer this and said, "Well, isn't it obvious? I mean… babies can't tell their parents that they wanted to be born. It's just… I mean, is Lot even my actual father? I don't look anything like him."

"You don't.", agreed Lady Morgause, "But you certainly have better looks than him. Aside from Agravain, our children all took after me, so you were blessed in that regard."

Mordred suppressed a snort of laughter as she said, "Agravain does look like Lot without a beard."

Lady Morgause smiled as well and the young knight privately thought how beautiful she looked smiling. She tried to imagine her mother smiling at her the way Lady Morgause did, but she found she just couldn't. Even standing next to the very image of her mother, Mordred could not picture that woman smiling at her the way Lady Morgause was.

For a short while, Lady Morgause and Mordred just talked with each other. Mordred found that she actually enjoyed speaking with the older woman and even though her face made it uncomfortable at times, Mordred was pleased that Lady Morgause listened and spoke with her. She didn't make her feel dumb, small, or acutely aware of her shortcomings.

Mordred actually found herself smiling and excited to share stories about her adventures as a squire, from her fights against bandits to helping distressed peasants and even how she helped save her mother from an assassin knight. She had just managed to stop herself before going on about how her mother suspected that King Arthur had been the one to send the assassin.

Throughout all of this, Lady Morgause was a perfect audience. She gasped in awe at the right moments in the tales, she praised her for her bravery and cleverness, and laughed at the funny moments Mordred had found herself in. She would ask if Mordred had ever been scared, if she had ever been worried about being unsuccessful, or if she ever felt like she was being mistreated.

Ordinarily Mordred would have hotly denied any of this, but from Lady Morgause she felt like she could be more open with her. It just felt… natural to talk to her like this. It was more of an instinct that Lady Morgause was a good person who could be trusted. Though she still was careful to not reveal anything about her true gender or what her mother had intended for her to do, Mordred was able to talk about how there were times she felt worried, where she was had been "only a little" scared at times. But as always, Lady Morgause reassured her that there was no shame in any of that. That it was okay to be a little scared at times and it was true courage when one did brave deeds despite being scared.

Mordred wasn't exactly certain what that feeling Lady Morgause was giving her, but it made her feel warm, comfortable, and strangely safe. Instantly she frowned in suspicion as her mother's lessons came back to her. At King Mark's court there had been people big and small who tried to curry favor with her, but she had shunned them all away or played the game of court intrigue to turn things in her favor. A sense of defensiveness struck her and she instantly felt a fool for speaking so much, chastising herself as if she were a stupid child who spoke without thinking. She turned away and stubbornly gazed out at the sea, hoping that this would signal the end of the conversation. It may be very rude, but it was better than letting herself slip up.

"Did I upset you Sir Mordred?", asked Lady Morgause softly.

Mordred was silent and instead fixed her gaze down at the ocean. For a few moments there was nothing but the wind and the sounds of waves crashing against the rocks to fill the silence. Then there was a slight shift of clothing and Mordred instantly knew that Lady Morgause was closing the distance when she sensed her approach.

To her astonishment, she felt Lady Morgause carefully and tenderly embrace her from behind. Her body tensed as if ready to throw her off, but instincts halted her movement and she instead gritted her teeth as her eyes widened.

NOBODY had ever touched her like this and it took solid effort to not react poorly because this was something she had no experience with.

Only Sir Bertilak had ever laid his hands on her and rarely in an affectionate way. Like patting her shoulder, slapping her back with pride, or when he would discipline her to improve. There was some fondness there, but after Kelly Rounds he had thereafter never embraced her again like a proud mentor.

Mother's touches had always been rare. They were given stiffly, almost reluctantly at times, and even the act of simply petting her head was an act that was awkward despite how much she had yearned for her mother's physical contact. She had been struck or had her hair pulled more often than not when she had misbehaved, but even these actions hadn't occurred in years. That still didn't erase the fact that the maternal affection Mordred sought was always bought at a price.

With Lady Morgause… this was different on such a fundamental level that she wasn't sure how to exactly respond.

"I'm sorry, Mordred. I imagine you are not subject to affection like this but… please allow me to hold you like this."

None of this was mocking, trying to dig information out of her, and all of Lady Morgause's words were genuinely sincere. Despite her dislike of the lessons on court intrigue, Mother had been able to impart on Mordred the ability to see if somebody was being insincere, if they were trying to get something from her, or if they were playing her false. With Lady Morgause, there was none of those things.

Instead she felt… warm, comfortable, and strangely safe.

When Lady Morgause's arms wrapped around her, she felt the strength and tenderness in her embrace. The softness of her skin and the scent of her hair filled the senses. The warmth of her more voluptuous form, the pressure of her arms around her waist, and the sound of her gentle voice as she whispered in her ear made Mordred feel safe, cherished, and loved. All the anger she felt for Lot, the fear of what Gareth might say or do, and the thoughts of what would happen just seemed to matter less and less as Morgause held her and made her feel like things would be somehow okay.

It was a strange sensation Mordred felt almost completely alien to receive such affection from a woman like Morgause.

She didn't know what the embrace of a loving mother was, but all she could think of was how nice this was. When was the last time Mother had ever held her like Lady Morgause did? Mordred had almost always been the one to initiate contact and even then Mother would tell her to stop or release her quickly. There had been very few times where Mother had held her first.

The time with special bath before she abandoned her for a whole day.

The time where she had told Mother that she wanted to join King Arthur's court.

The rescue at Kelly Rounds perhaps?

It was honestly hard to remember exactly how many times Mother ever initiated an embrace or physical contact first. But even so the question came into her mind.

"When had Mother's embraces ever been so warm and gentle like Lady Morgause's?"

Mordred wanted her to let go and leave her be, she wanted Lady Morgause to stay to hug her more, she wanted to ask for her help regarding Gareth, she wanted her to…

What DID she want?

But then she was released from the embrace and Mordred asked her what was wrong, but Lady Morgause smiled and fanned herself as she said with the same kind smile that she was feeling somewhat faint as her health wasn't the best.

Then she turned away and hurried off while Mordred stared after her.

She had begun to feel very cold and there was an aching inside her, like a void that had been filled suddenly and without warning had been opened even greater than before.

/~/

Morgan le Fay

Morgan le Fay had a tower room all to herself, so it was a passing interest to see Mordred wandering alone. She felt annoyed that her child wasn't socializing, but it couldn't be helped. The spell of obscurity was still strong and eventually it would fade away. She would not be able to be around at all times to make sure that Mordred hid herself and a person with significant magic resistance would be able to see through the obscurity. For somebody like Gawain, Lancelot, or Tristan, they would be able to perceive her, but not be able to retain the memory of her face. Somebody as strong as Artoria would instantly see her for what she was, and Merlin would be able to break the spell nonchalantly.

But the armor that Mordred would wear was guaranteed to be perfect at hiding her true identity. Not even Merlin himself would be able to discern her true appearance or true abilities. It would be up to Mordred however to maintain that secrecy, so Morgan had made certain that her helm, the most important piece of her armor had been fortified with many spells to prevent even the likes of Merlin from being able to penetrate through.

Though the Mystery of the British Isles were waning, there were still those who lingered and had helped her create the Wyvern Armor as well as Helm of Hidden Infidelity. Not only that, but the clothing underneath the armor was an aesthetic design. It was certainly clothing that no woman would dare be seen wearing lest they be referred to as a despicable and wanton whore. Morgan le Fay was never one to be wasteful despite the design of the clothing, for it was magically designed to allow its wearer to stay cool or warm as necessary and to prevent unnecessary friction. There was also a design to humiliate and embarrass Mordred, ensuring that by constantly being aware of what her clothes were, she would never take her armor off in front of others.

Then she heard a knock on the door that interrupted her musings. The time had come it seemed and now was the time for her to enact the next part of her plans, so she bade the knocker to enter. Lady Morgause had an appointment with her after all and she had been very specific about the time she was to meet her.

Morgause entered the room with a calm and resigned expression before she was ordered to lock the door. The other woman obeyed quietly and set the key aside before she sighed softly.

"You couldn't let me even spend some time with Mordred as myself?", Morgause asked quietly, the candlelight giving her a haunted and beautiful appearance.

Morgan le Fay had a look of cold satisfaction on her face as she turned.

"Dear Morganna, of course you'll be able to spend time with Mordred. In fact, I would have it no other way as it will only solidify Mordred's loyalty further."

"You know I am not overly fond of the nickname, "Morganna".", said Morgause in a soft, but firm voice, "It is too much like yours. People would be likely to think we are one and the same or that "Morgause" and "Morganna" are two different people."

That struck Morgan le Fay as a rather on the nose remark and caused her to humorlessly laugh.

"Well they wouldn't be wrong. "Morgan", "Morgause", and "Morganna"… when I come into my kingdom I shall be certain to have any confusion resolved."

Morgause however said nothing in reply.

But the expression she was giving her was becoming quickly irksome.

"Oh come now. This is all necessary and by the time it is finally over, perhaps I'll-."

"Necessary?"

Morgause's look became disgusted as she shook her head.

"So many lives ruined, so much harm committed, and you still tell me it's necessary?"

Morgan looked uncaring as she sharply told Morgause, "It IS! I will NOT rule over a broken and barren wasteland fit only for carrion birds and invaders to fight over. The King must die and Mordred will be a necessary sacrifice for the land and the Mystery of Britain to be preserved! It won't just be a land for humans, but ALL. Mordred is a useful tool, one that I have even become somewhat fond of, but she too must die for the future that I envision for all. NOT just humans, but ALL who inhabit this land. You know as well as I just why I have to ensure this kind of future no matter what Vivian thinks."

Morgause's expression didn't change as the weight of Morgan's ambitions were laid out before her. Of course she would never be able to tell anybody this. When she was "born", Morgan had made certain that she would keep her secrets, to be completely obedient to her in word and in deed, and to be a placeholder should she ever wish it.

A glint of golden light flashed from Morgan's hand as she drew forth a curved golden dagger with intricate vines designed into the handle and she felt an inward chill.

Erosion: Penetrating Blade of Gold.

The tool that had allowed her sister to shunt the good and human aspect of her soul into the body she currently inhabited. She didn't know whose body it was, nor what she had once been. All of that had been excised to create an empty space for Morgan to dump her humanity into until all that was left was a cold and brutal witch named Morgan le Fay.

She had attempted this only once before Morgause, but the Great Mother, the Lady of the Lake had fled due to having power of her own and refusing to assist Morgan.

/~/

Morgause

Morgause had all of Morgan's memories prior to her separation, so she had understood just what she was and how she came to be. Not only that, but she had successfully passed her off as the daughter of Ygraine and Uther Pendragon thanks to the fact that neither lived as well as some clever placement. Artoria and Merlin had assumed at first that Morgause had been Morgan when she had been offered to Lot as a part of the marriage pact to ally Lot to her. But the truth was quickly discovered afterwards and Merlin had advised Artoria to keep this fact a secret lest Lot in his wrath bring Britain into another deadly and costly war that it just couldn't afford. So it had come to be that King Arthur had TWO sisters instead of just the one as previously assumed.

Morgan had been married off to Urien of Rheged when she was barely a woman herself, but Morgause had found that she had been the more fortunate one. Lot was a stern man and fierce where his family was concerned, but he had been a much better match for her than Urien in nearly every facet. Except for one thing. A deed that she could never forgive Lot for in spite of her nature as the good and human aspect of a soul.

Before the birth of Gawain, she had a daughter named Teneu, who had been born misshapen and deformed, with fangs, scales, and claws. At first it was given that she would not live through the night, but the child had endured for two years in secrecy at the insistence of Lot and even after the birth of Gawain. Morgause had loved the girl with all her heart and took it as a sign from God that the child was special to have endured so long.

But Lot had been unable to endure the child being in such a deformed state of misery and one day had the girl taken away to be never seen again. When she demanded the truth from him, Lot confessed he had the girl thrown off a cliff to prevent her from living a life of tormented agony as a monster and had told her that he would never have a daughter for as long as he lived.

As the good and human aspect of Morgan, Morgause had been unable to hate him despite yearning to do so. Being purely good and humane meant that she had been cut off from the darkness in the human heart that required it to be a whole existence.

Gawain had never known about Teneu, nor had Agravain or Gaheris when they were born. But when Gareth was born, Morgause had told Lot that if he took Gareth away from her, she would tell the truth of Teneu to King Arthur. With Merlin at his side, the truth would be made known and Lot would be deposed and disgraced forever. He could kill her if he wanted, but she would not surrender Gareth no matter what.

Teneu's death still weighed heavy on Lot and the promise his wife made to him was enough to stay his hand. But as a consequence, Gareth was made to hide her femininity and be publicly known as Lot's "son". However, Morgause had made certain to teach Gareth about her female body so that she would not be confused as to who she was and why she was different from her brothers. Gareth's optimism and her remarkable inner strength enabled her to learn early on how to both fall in line with her father's orders to hide her female nature while also being fully aware of who she was and to be comfortable as a female. Yet despite what Lot had done, Morgause still knew she had the better life than what Morgan had been subjected to.

Morgause had been made aware about the assaults and rapes her "sister" had been subjected to by Urien not long after Morgan had murdered him. Morgan had told her that she would bring down King Arthur and all he held dear. Ever since then, her life revolved of always being on the move, of hiding, of scheming, and indulging in base pleasures to fill the hole that had once been her humanity. Morgause had thought that she could sink no lower than when she had tried to groom Agravain into being a pawn for her to use in her schemes.

Agravain had always been a cold and hard person even as a child, being closer to his father Lot instead of close to her like his other siblings. He was always courteous and respectful, but there had always had been an underlying sense of… malice about him. As a child Agravain sometimes had worried Morgause because of the way cruelty just seemed to come easy to him despite how he tried to suppress these actions. More than once he had been caught hurting an animal, and one time he had caught the son of a blacksmith picking on Gareth he had broken the older boy's arms and his knees with a heavy sledgehammer. He claimed it was defending his sibling, but Gareth confessed to her that Agravain had kept attacking the older boy even after she begged him to stop. What made it even worse was that Gareth told her that Agravain wasn't smiling when he did that. If he took any pleasure from the near-fatal killing, he hid it very deeply.

The fear of Agravain only compounded when out all of the Orkney children, Agravain unintentionally discovered that he was the sole inheritor of Morgan le Fay's vast magical talent. He had found that he could hurt people without directly touching them, but he had never raised his hand against his family. Morgause wasn't sure what Morgan had done with him, but by the time he had been inducted into the Round Table, Agravain had become developed an almost pathological hatred of women. Though he remained courteous and at worst spoke to her in curt tones, Morgause could feel the sheer depth of hatred from him when he looked at her with those black eyes of his that bore into her.

She had been so relieved when he left Din Eidyn because she had felt certain that he intended to hurt her now that Morgan le Fay had returned. But all he did to her was merely give her one of his chilling glares before he had left with barely a word spoken to her. Morgause still cared for Agravain because save for Gareth, he was not loved particularily by anybody. Even Gawain disliked him for his hard and dark nature, but it was not from lack of trying to form a bond with his younger brother. They just couldn't connect on any level. Gaheris was similar, but he was open about his criticisms of his brother and Gawain at least knew to keep his thoughts to himself. Gareth had never once given up on trying to make Agravain smile or feel joy. She probably was the only person who could soften the edges of his glare or at least speak to her with a great deal more patience than with anybody else despite the hatred he now held for the weaker sex.

Morgause had thought that corrupting Agravain was the lowest Morgan could sink, but oh had she been proven wrong. Morgan had revealed to her only a few years ago that she had given birth to a child of her own body using the seed of King Arthur. She then ordered Morgause to do whatever it took to ensure that Lot would have a safe haven for her and her child when the time was right to shield them from King Arthur.

Not only that, but she had also used her vast magic to deceive Lot as well into sleeping with her and mistaking Morgan for Morgause. After the deed had been done, Morgan had vanished from her sight. Though rumors of her deeds would sometimes reach her, Morgause had been relieved to never see Morgan in all that time. But when Gareth had been in danger and King Mark was used to rescue him, Morgause knew in her heart that her sister would call upon her to do what she was ordered since King Mark had explicitly told her and Lot that Morgan le Fay had specifically asked him to help.

So she had obeyed like the pawn she was.

When when she beheld Mordred for the first time, instead of seeing somebody like Morgan, the first thing she felt was love for the young knight and relief as if she had simply been away on a long journey. She had been privately surprised to figure out that the knight was female because Morgan had never told her this. But as soon as she laid eyes on her, but Morgause found that she was instantly fond of Mordred and something inside her felt as if she had known her all her life.

Despite being a pure and good soul, Morgause was not naïve and was sharp enough to figure out just why she had been taken with Mordred so instantly from the start. She had not even known her for a full day, but already what she felt had been love

The love of a parent for her child.

But when Morgan had placed her hand on Mordred, she sensed in the witch that there was a hole in her very soul from the contact. Then when they embraced like reunited siblings, sharing the same soul had given Morgause clarity on her other half.

Morgan was in perpetual and ceaseless pain.

Miserable, unhappy, and only able to feel the slightest relief through acts of satisfaction. Not joy, not happiness, and certainly not contentment. Only physical pleasure, triumph, or satisfaction from a task completed.

And that was when Morgause understood.

/~/

Morgan le Fay

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Morgause had always had a look of fear or a sad resignation whenever she drew forth Erosion, but that was not what was happening here. Instead of fear, sadness, or resignation on her face there was only a mixture of pity and disappointment. This made no sense. Why… why was Morgause looking at her like some creature to be pitied instead of feared? Incredulity was the chief feeling she had, that somebody as weak and powerless as Morgause was looking at her like she was some starving whelp whom she could give no food to. Just what could there be for Morgause to be disappointed in her for? To be sure there were a great many things, but pity was something she couldn't fathom even as she looked at this from a logical and objective view.

That's when Morgause said it.

"I'm sorry Morgan. Sister… I'm sorry."

Morgan le Fay blinked and was almost certain she did not just hear Morgause apologize to her with complete and total sincerity. Pity, disappointment, and now an apology?

"Explain yourself.", said Morgan le Fay in dangerous tones as her grip tightened on Erosion as she tried to work out just what Morgause was playing at. But the look on her sister's face didn't change and her tone remained resolute in her sincerity.

"Sister… you suffer even more than I do."

Morgause closed her eyes for a moment and it looked like she would lose courage, but she didn't shake and she didn't flinch from what she had to say. So she opened her eyes and spoke again.

"Despite all the power at your fingers. Despite being perhaps one of the most powerful beings in the whole of Britain… you are still suffering every day because you cannot feel nor reciprocate the love in any form. There is a void in you that you cannot fill no matter what you do, that can only be temporarily ignored or silenced with hedonism. But… when we are this close together, I realized that I feel that you hate doing any of that too. Nothing brings you true relief, but you are aware of it aren't you? You are in untold pain and despite how you brought all this on yourself, I am the part of you that still knows how deeply you long for relief from this agony you have. Despite everything that HAS happened to me because of you and despite everything that's GOING to happen.. all I can feel is truly sorry for you."

Morgan's first thoughts were denial, but she remembered… she remembered when she sang her child to sleep and felt nothing beyond annoyance at her crying.

She recalled how Mordred would kiss her like a loyal and loving daughter to her mother, all while being completely unaware that Morgan could not feel nor reciprocate that love.

(( imgur dot com/ a / r6XLXge))

Morgan had recalled feeling dismayed when Mordred gave her unconditional love many times, but she never understood why she felt so dismayed even though she KNEW what she was doing and that Mordred would eventually come to hate her.

But Morgause's apology was making her recall memories and feelings she thought she had excised from her very soul.

Because the happiest Morgan had ever been had been when she had both given and received unconditional love. The last person aside from Mordred who held this for her had been… it had been-

/~/

'Big Sis Morgan!'

There was cheerful laughter, a smile that shone like the sun, and the girl who would be king running towards her.

'Careful Artoria! Hahahaha, here we go!"

She caught the child in her hands and span around with her as the girl who would be king laughed and giggled with delight.

"What's this? I've found a cute fairy and look at her flying!'

"Hahahahahahaha!"

"Hahahahahaha!"

She held the small child to her and reveled in the way she hugged her back with all her strength. Urien didn't matter. None of that mattered. She was with somebody who truly made her happy and she sat down with the girl who would be king telling her that she had a secret to tell her.

'What is it my dear?'

The girl who would be king leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

'I love you Big Sis!'

Tears slid down her cheeks as she and the girl who would be king gave each other a loving embrace that only the closest of sisters could give.

/~/

Anger began to fill Morgan, turning her beautiful face into one of nearly unbridled fury, yet Morgause did not change her expression and remained silent as another memory came unbidden.

/~/

'Morgan… why did you murder Urien?'

The brutal witch stood before the king, alone and unguarded with Caliburn in her hand. It had been a trap she had successfully pulled off thanks to Merlin's womanizing and carelessness. But even so, Morgan le Fay knew that it wasn't the right time to strike down King Arthur. No… she had plans and though she longed to do so, it wasn't the right time to kill him. She held up the Sword of Selection, which should have been hers by right and looked it over as she spoke.

'You knew what kind of man he was. Are you not more surprised that I did not slay him after the first night he decided to invoke his "rights"? How about the many more times after that? Feeling him on top of me, feeling him INSIDE me? No pleasure, just… pain. All of that I bore because I trusted you, King Arthur. Uther had promised me to him, but all you had to do was refuse him and you let it happen. Or perhaps I should mention how he knew I had the power to slay him with a twitch of my finger, yet was helpless to fend him off elsewise he would turn on you? I am the inheritor of the Will of Britain, yet to that man I was nothing more than a bitch he could kick around as he saw fit.'

'Morgan, if you only would have waited… I did try to-'

'Oh of course, "wait".", she snapped with words full of bitterness and resentment, "That's your answer to all the suffering isn't it? If you can bear your burden, why can't everybody else?! How long must people suffer before their suffering is vindicated? Oh but they cannot. King Arthur can endure, therefore everybody else must endure too until the promised victory finally comes. Well heed this, King Arthur…"

She pointed Caliburn at the king and hissed, "I will NEVER forgive you. NEVER.'

'I know. I understand your anger, but I have a duty as king and I cannot allow anybody to interfere with that. Your marriage was the correct solution to what may have torn Britain apart. Lives were saved, the lands were restored and healed, the people are happy and prosperous, and so much good has been done for all the families of-"

'BUT I AM YOUR FAMILY!", she shouted and slashed at the air with Caliburn, "I WOULD NEVER HAVE DONE SOMETHING LIKE THIS TO YOU IF UTHER AND MERLIN HAD NOT STOLEN MY BIRTHRIGHT! I WAS SUPPOSED TO RULE THE LAND! ME! IT NEVER SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU! YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN KING!'

King Arthur endured all this with perfect stoicism, perfect understanding, and yet there was a moment where Artoria's voice came through.

'Sister… I'm sorry. I'm… I'm truly sorry."

That apology… and the way Artoria vanished before King Arthur turned his back on her had cut the deepest wound into her heart as she stared back at him in naked shock and impotent fury. She had stolen Caliburn from him, but somehow Morgan le Fay felt like she had been completely and utterly defeated still.

/~/

Morgan le Fay

Morgause was an incomplete person who was incapable of harming others because it went against the very nature of her existence as a pure and good soul. She could not protect herself from the wrath of Morgan le Fay and the anger she now displayed at her. No… this was not anger.

"…I remember that time. That was probably the last time you ever felt truly happy. And Mordred… has been a constant reminder of what you lost and what you have become, hasn't she?

It was beyond fury, beyond rage that shook Morgan le Fay.

It was wrath.

It was naked hatred.

(( imgur dot com / aux6gX2 ))

Hatred for being pitied, hatred for her own weakness if somebody as powerless as Morgause could look at her with such pity, and most of all because in the tiniest corner of her mind Morgan le Fay knew that Morgause was absolutely correct. Mordred was the only person who had even given her the closest feeling to being happy, but the void and consternation she felt made it impossible for her to feel or reciprocate any of that happiness and love that she craved as well.

Veins stood out on her face like iron chords, her knuckles were white from how tightly she gripped her weapon, and her tattoos were glowing like fire. She couldn't move, she couldn't speak, and she felt like she couldn't even breath as her eyes shone like pale green fire at Morgause.

But there was still no other emotion from the other woman aside pity for Morgan's pain and disappointment at what she had become as a result of her own choices.

Warm green eyes met with furious pale green eyes and Morgause knew that whatever plans Morgan had originally, she would now see her suffer for it. But… but perhaps-

"!"

Morgan couldn't even speak from the fury that consumed her and instead just let out a sound that was a mixture between a scream and a sob as she raised Erosion above her head and ran towards Morgause. Erosion was raised above her head before she brought it down on Morgause's heart. Her sister's mouth was open in a silent scream and light began to glow from the wound as Morgan le Fay held the dagger in place until the thread of her soul was snipped from its body in a vicious slash.

But then Morgause's body acted without the bondage placed on her and too late Morgan realized she had forgotten to specifically order Morgause to remain still. With surprising strength, Morgause grabbed Morgan's hand and turned Erosion on her in a tackle filled with the strength of madness. Light erupted from Morgan's eyes and mouth in a silent scream as well as her body fell backwards onto the bed. She convulsed as her soul was snipped from its body and the room was aglow with the light of the souls that were forcefully torn from their bodies.

/~/

Morgan le Fay felt as though she were falling into a deep ocean that swallowed all light. This sensation should have been nothing to her, but she had been angry. She had been angrier than she had ever thought possible and because of this, she was now paying for it dearly.

Erosion should have done as its master had commanded, but the fault had not been on the part of the magical dagger. To even admit that she was to blame was a blatant sign that Morgause had gotten to her in a way that no other enemy had done. It should have been mere seconds, yet it felt like an eternity as she fell into the mental abyss.

Then she began to fall faster and faster, the bubbles around her rushing past her until suddenly she saw a prick of light that seemed as though she would never reach it.

'Sister... I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry.'

The voice of Morgause was in her ear and she turned around to see her own reflection staring back at her. The same look of pity and disappointment was evident in her eyes. They were mirror reflections of each other, but Morgan tried to tell herself to hurry up and get it over with before Morgause could act.

That instance of hesitation was all that Morgause needed and she reached out to her original self, placing her hand on her cheek before Morgan could flee. It was as warm and gentle as a mother's caress, yet to Morgan le Fay it burned like a branding iron.

In that instant both Morgan le Fay and Morgause opened their mouths, leaning back in silent screams of agony before Morgan pushed her back and the two were launched opposite of each other as Erosion's magic completed its work.

/~/

?

Morgan's eyes opened, her vision blurry and her head swimming as her stomach rolled in her belly. She felt as though she were about to be sick as she lay in a daze on the bed, her skin feeling hot and weak.

Control, control, control, she had to get herself back under control. First she had to recall her memories to make certain that she was still herself.

'I am Morgan le Fay, daughter of Uther Pendragon and Ygraine. My sister is Artoria- no, King Arthur of the Britons. I have... children. Gawain, Agravain, Gaheris, Gareth, and... Mordred. I... I am raising Mordred to... to kill King Arthur. I have... I have to save Britain. I am the Inheritor of the Black Mana. The Will of Britain. Only I can do it. It's what I was made to do."

These thoughts helped her recall her life.

Her own childhood innocence.

Her happiest time as a beloved elder sister to little Artoria.

Being chosen by destiny to be next in line to rule Britain.

Her hatred when she was told she would not be the ruler of the land.

The various schemes and plots she had enacted all her life.

But as Morgan reflected on what should have been her greatest triumph in taking Artoria to remind herself of what she was going, the memory of victory turned to sick bile in her heart. She felt a great disturbance in her heart and a sickness that felt as though her heart was squeezing her chest, her muscles were tight all throughout her body, and she felt so cold that she hugged herself. She began shaking as more memories came despite trying to stop them while her eyes widened. She felt terrified and shocked as she recalled how she had been frequently abused and forcibly assaulted against her will by her late husband Urien.

"Why...?", came her voice shaky and hollow, "Why do I feel so afraid and... and...?"

More memories came as she shut her eyes tightly as if to stop herself from seeing how she murdered him in his sleep, the cold nights, the endless running and hiding in the shadows. There was disgust with herself pleasure she felt from her lustful encounters with men and how she reveled in selfish cruelty.

Then Morgan's memories of how she stole Artoria's seed through deception and rape came to her so vividly she began to sweat and dry heave from how disgusted she felt with herself. Why did she do that?! HOW could she do such a thing?! Seeing the dull horror on Artoria as she took her inside over and over, panting and sweating like a beast in heat nearly caused her to vomit on the spot.

But the worst was yet to come, as the most vivid image came to mind of why she had done such a black and evil deed. She was holding Mordred as an infant, singing a haunting lullaby that was telling her she was raising Mordred to be a loyal slave who would live and die for her without ever knowing even an ounce of love from her.

[Image: imgur /siWoAjC ]

"Ahh...! AAAAAAAHHHH...!"

Morgan let out a guttural sob of total misery and she began to cry freely as she felt the full weight of her crimes hit her like a lightning strike to her heart. She had never known such a pain could exist. The rapes and assaults of Urien, every battle she had ever fought in, all the physical suffering she had endured were nothing compared to the pain of how her memories told her she had been the worst person and mother to have ever existed. Every insult and self-abashment ran through her at how she had done all this to Artoria, to Morgause, to her children, to herself, and especially to Mordred.

Morgan beat at her head with fists over and over until she became nearly dazed. She wanted to tear her hair out, to scratch her face until she ripped her eyes from her skull, and scream until her throat was raw.

But the knowledge of how she treated her daughter hurt the worst because despite everything she had done, Mordred still loved her.

Morgan's muscles didn't want to obey her at first as she scrambled off the bed, falling over as she tried to get to the door. She was still crying as she struggled to get up, a desperate madness filling her as her mind became emptied save for one thing;

To find Mordred, apologize with all her heart and soul, and to do anything it took to make up for all she had ever done.

The guilt may very well kill her first, but that was too good a fate for one such as herself and a far too easy way out. Despite how heavy her limbs felt, she eventually got to her feet and stumbled as she reached for the door. For a brief moment she why she was barefoot as she had her silver-white gown caught between her legs and caused her to fall heavily onto all fours again.

With stiff, clumsy fingers she groped for the door as she crawled forward with heavy gasps.

"Mordred...! Mordred...! Please! I'm sor-MMPH!"

A hard hand clasped over her mouth and she squeaked in pain as she was yanked backwards by another hand gripping her long, thick braid.

"No. You will not get to apologize. I won't allow it."

It was a voice that reached through to her and she looked up to see... herself staring down at her with eyes as cold and implacable as ice. How was this possible? But then she was turned sharply to gaze at the full-length mirror while being held up in the other Morgan's tight and unyielding grip. That's when it became all too clear to her as she beheld in the mirror the weeping visage of Morgause in the merciless clutches of Morgan le Fay.

Was this... what it felt like as Morgause? Was this what Mordred felt when she had pulled her hair so mercilessly? To be smaller, weaker, and completely at the mercy of a sadistic monster that took pleasure from her pain? But the thought was pushed aside as she vainly tried to pull away and reach in vain for the door, still consumed with the desire to stop her plans and to make amends with Mordred before it was too late.

'MORDRED...! MY CHILD!', thought Morgan as she struggled helplessly like a mouse in the coils of a cruel serpent, ' STOP ME BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE! GOD IN HEAVEN, WHAT HAVE I DONE!? SOMEBODY! ANYBODY! FATHER! MOTHER! ARTORIA…!"

But Morgause, as she smiled with the cruel smile of Morgan le Fay, spoke in a voice filled with wicked delight.

"Do give yourself credit, dear sister. This guilt and shame you feel I suspect will momentarily pass, whereupon I shall be once more powerless before you and then things will continue on as you always intended. But... I will NOT allow you to redeem yourself. I have to admit... this is the first time since my birth that I feel no guilt, shame, sorrow, pity, empathy, or any such weakness. I feel so... FREE!"

The smile grew wider and her eyes lit with malignant delight as Morgause gloated.

"This won't last I believe, but I have to admit... I quite enjoy being evil for once! Fufufufufu...HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

/~/

Mordred

Mordred had returned to her room after being tired of looking out at the sea, feeling tired from the long day. Thankfully a servant had already made a fire and the room felt pleasant after being in the cold air for what must have been an hour or so. She sat down on her bed and sighed, untying her long hair from its braids and shaking it out. Then Mordred was about to lay down and sleep in her formal clothes when she saw the large object hidden by the cloth from earlier. She had almost forgotten about that.

At first sleep seemed like the better option for Mordred, but curiosity won her out. What was a few seconds of curiosity indulged? It would be a welcome distraction because Lot had not sent for her, nor had guards tried to apprehend her. What game was Gareth playing at? Was she just waiting for the right time?

Groaning at all these meaningless thoughts that served no purpose, she got off the bed and walked over to the cloth before gripping it with one hand. She felt something hard underneath it and started to pull on it.

There came a knock at the door that interrupted her. Mordred nearly told the intruder to get lost, when she heard the soft voice of Gareth speaking.

"Mordred? May I please come in?"

The weariness Mordred felt instantly faded as she immediately sought a weapon. But she calmed herself enough to know that she couldn't strike Gareth down, but she wanted nothing to do with the youngest Orkney.

"Go away Gareth. Now!", she said as the fear and shame she felt earlier came back to her.

"Mordred-"

"I mean it Gareth.", warned Mordred, "Go away right now or I swear to God that I'll hurt you."

"…"

There was silence on the other side of the door before Gareth spoke again in a shaky voice, "Please… please just hear me out. I didn't mean to do anything wrong to you. Y-you don't ha-have to let me in… but please don't tell me to go aw… away."

Gareth's quiet sobs were heard outside the door and despite how furious she had been at her younger sibling's words, she felt her anger ebb away in spite of herself. For a while she paced like a caged animal in her room as Gareth continued crying at the door, yet her newfound sister would not leave.

The crying continued and Gareth continued to sniffle until Mordred began to feel guilty for not answering.

"M-M-Mordreeeed…. Please don't shut me out."

That finally did it. So reluctantly, Mordred opened the door to see Gareth crouched down and with her face buried in her arms. Gareth looked up at her with wet and shining eyes, her hair tufts flat against her head. Her lips were trembling and there was even a little mucus coming from her nose much to Mordred's disgust.

"Well?", she said impatiently gesturing for Gareth to enter before changed her mind.

Gareth loudly sniffed and wiped her eyes before she entered and Mordred shut the door behind them.

"You-"

"I'M SORRY…!", wailed Gareth as she began to cry again, "I didn't mean anything wrong! When I said you were like… like me, I meant that you also have to pretend to be a boy!"

She wiped her eyes and hurriedly said, "Father always hated the fact that I'm a girl, so he always made me pretend to be a boy for as long as I can remember. He says that if I ever want to amount to anything, I have to never be a girl in front of anybody, but… but when I saw that you were actually a girl too, I actually felt so relieved! I didn't think that there was anybody in the world who knew what I was going through too! I-I have my brothers and mother, but… but I was lonely all the time because I knew I was a girl and couldn't do all the things they could and Father would always be mad at me for it."

Mordred had been tempted at first to just dismiss Gareth after regretting her decision to give into the younger girl, but when she began to talk about what kind of life her father forced her to live, she began to actually pay attention. There was that flare of anger at Gareth's relief of Mordred actually being a girl, but the way she spoke about Lot reminded her eerily about her own mother.

Gareth's nose was reddened from how upset she was, but she continued to talk quickly before she could get kicked out again.

"When I saw you… it made me realize that even somebody like me can accomplish their dream! I… I also want to be a knight! I want to be like Big Bro Gawain, I want to be like King Arthur! But most of all… I want to a knight just like Sir Lancelot!"

She closed her eyes and shouted the last sentence with her fists bunched at her sides. Mordred hissed at her to be quiet, but then she realized she had not quite heard just what Gareth had said.

"Say that first part again."

"I… When I saw that you, Mordred were a girl too, but also a knight… it made me realize that even I can accomplish my dream. My dream isn't impossible after all and you are proof of that. Mordred… I know we have only just met, but I already love you more than I did previously because you proved that Father was wrong by your very existence."

There was a determination in Gareth that burned away her tears and despite her puppy-dog appearance there came a sudden fierceness as she looked at Mordred.

"Father told me that girls can't be knights and that I would be unable to hide being a girl. He told me that no knight would ever let me squire for them except maybe Big Bro Gawain, but that I would be shaming him only. He's wrong about him, but I don't want to squire for Big Bro Gawain. I want to squire for Sir Lancelot AND I want him to knight me with his own hands!"

She held a hand over her heart and stepped forward to look Mordred directly despite the strange sensation that caused her headaches and the inability to put together her sister's face.

"If I want to be anything like Sir Lancelot, then I want you to know that I would never betray your secret. I'm also truly sorry for seeing you. I know you were just angry when I saw you, but if you were like that then there had to be a reason."

Despite her innocent appearance, Mordred was slightly astonished with how sharp and perceptive Gareth was. She seemed to be waiting for an affirmation or denial, but Mordred kept her mouth shut and just frowned at her still. Gareth seemed to be telling the truth, but her own dreams and her own secrets were something she could never tell. She had already had one secret revealed and to reveal what Mother wanted her to be was something she could never speak of.

She still had to say something given the expectant look on Gareth, so finally answered.

"I… want to protect King Arthur and all that he represents."

It should have been complicated and hard to answer, but the words came out far easier and less torturous than she thought. There was even a sensation of… relief. Like a burden she had been carrying was now much lighter now that she had spoken the words. Those few words that had sometimes been all that kept her going when things got hard.

Gareth nodded in approval and the hair tufts on her head perked up instead of laying limp and lifelessly.

"Mordred… that's a beautiful dream and I KNOW you'll achieve it and then some! But I mean it with every word when I say that you're my little sister still and so I will protect you like any good Big Sister."

"You're not my damn Big Sister-!"

Gareth cut her off with a firm, "NO!"

Even despite being emotional earlier, Gareth was quick to fall back into the stubborn insistence that she was Mordred's Big Sister.

She may not be able to fight just yet like Mordred undoubtedly could, but she would still protect her in her own small way.

But making a promise. A promise worthy of any of King Arthur's knights.

Mordred felt uncomfortable and tried to stop Gareth, but Gareth begged her to let her show her sincerity and with some trepidation, Mordred finally agreed. So Gareth's hand turned into a fist and she held it over her heart as she looked Mordred directly in the eye and made her oath.

"I, Gareth of Orkney, swear before God, to never speak of the true identity of my beloved sibling, Sir Mordred. I shall never reveal this to any living or dead. Not even if the price is the fulfillment of my dream shall I reveal my beloved sibling's true identity. This, I swear, so help me God."

It was absurd, it was insane, it was ridiculous for Gareth to speak like this. But she was obviously well-read to be able to understand the sanctity of oaths and to swear in such a way that would leave her dream unfulfilled forever reminded Mordred of herself in a way. Because despite the never-ending tirade of Mother boring the idea into her head that she must defeat and replace King Arthur, Mordred herself had sworn to herself that she would protect all that the king represented.

That vow she had made to herself had been the shield that had kept her goal clear despite all that she had been through. She had been ashamed when Gareth saw her nakedness, yet Gareth had only wanted to apologize and now she was proving her sincerity to protect her. She should have been angry and embarrassed to have somebody so much weaker than her make a declaration to protect her.

But even so it was somehow strangely touching.

Now more than ever Mordred felt tired and she just wanted to get some sleep. It had been one hell of a day and she was exhausted.

"Gareth, I… aagh, just go to bed okay? I'm tired and just wanna sleep."

But Gareth didn't move and again had that expectant puppy-like appearance as she asked, "Isn't there something you want to say before we go to sleep?"

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"…"

"….."

"…"

"Ugh, fine…!", groaned Mordred with a tired and irritated sigh as she held her arms open.

"Come on, just say it-"

"Take it or leave it!", Mordred snapped.

Gareth took the opportunity to practically jump in Mordred's open arms and hugged her tightly. Mordred felt awkward as she shuffled to the door with Gareth still embracing her and gave her some equally awkward headpats that Gareth delighted in. It took a few more minutes of complaining and begging Gareth to let go so she could go to sleep before the youngest Orkney finally did so.

Then Mordred finally pushed her out the door and nearly began to close it when Gareth stood on her toes and kissed her cheek.

"What the hell!?"

"Big Sister loves you Sir Mordred, but do mind your language!"

"I uh you too, so goodnight and go away!"

Mordred shut the door quickly, picked up the key on the nearby mantel and locked the door as Gareth said that she'll see her tomorrow at breakfast before she finally left.

""I uh you too"!?", she mouthed to herself as she cringed at such an embarrassing way to talk. Once more, she moved to bed to sleep before again she caught the cloth that she still hadn't been able to pull off from whatever was hidden underneath. The fire was now very dim and only just illuminated the room in a dull orange.

Much as she wanted to ignore it, she still felt curiosity and despite how badly she wanted to sleep the desire to just get it over with held off her desire to sleep just long enough to march over to the cloth and yanked it hard.

"…!"

She gasped softly as she saw the armor in the drawing her mother had given her in real life. It was big, bulky, and it invoked awe in her. From the great faulds that wrapped around its waist to the gauntlets that looked like a dragon's natural armor all the way up to the horned greathelm, Mordred felt that this armor was designed for intimidation. The armor would fully conceal whomever wore it and Mordred placed a hand on the steel breastplate to trace her fingers along the intricate red markings. There was power she could feel in the armor, a hidden strength that she felt a natural affinity for.

Then she reached up and carefully removed the greathelm from the stand to look at it. In the fading fire, Mordred could just make out her face reflected in the polished gray steel. She looked in the empty slits of the eyes and saw nothing but black in it beyond simple lack of light. It was like she was gazing into the abyss and the abyss was gazing back at her. Then in spite of her exhaustion, a fierce smile spread on the face of Mordred and she bared her sharp canines like the fangs of a dragon as she felt her blood run hot at the thought of wearing this armor in battle.

Tomorrow she decided she would put it on. Then when she did… let all of King Arthur's enemies beware. Her time would be soon and once it did… King Arthur would never have any more to fear. He would not have a red dragon as a symbol on a flag. No... he would have a different red dragon to protect him from anybody who might dare try to bring him harm.


Immortal: So just a side note regarding Lot, if you want the closest visual idea of him, I based his appearance off James Purefoy from the tv series, "Camelot". Please leave a review, a favorite, and a follow so that I can continue to bring more to the table here! Any constructive criticism would be helpful as it would only help me get better and I want this to be as enjoyable as possible!

As before, to view the image, input imgurdotcom, as in ".com" remove the spaces and it should take you to the art pieces!